Thwack, Pow!
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day six hundred and eighty-eight: There was one first hit, the feathers started flying, and then it was an all out war of pillows.  ND girls


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 32nd cycle. Now cycle 33!_

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><p><strong>Hear that little bird twitter!<strong> _Been thinking about doing this for a couple days, then this morning decided to just go for it. If you go there, find 'gleekathon' and there I'll be. There's also a video explaining everything... Yep... ;) Check it out!_

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><p><strong>"Thwack, Pow!"<br>Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes, Tina, Lauren, Santana, Brittany **

Rachel had taken a strong and decisive initiative with regards to the girls' efforts with the original song writing. Everyone was lying or sitting around the room, with looks vacant enough to clearly show there was little to no inspiration in them… or intention, for that matter. Not even a good and driven speech got the slightest rise out of them, so that was that… time for plan B. She sat at the computer desk, fresh paper before her and pen in hand.

Every so often she would make a not so subtle show of the fact that she, unlike them, was working on a song… With her back turned, the looks the girls threw each other every time she complained went unseen. Lauren would frown, Mercedes would crane her neck as though it was suddenly afflicted by an acute pain, Tina mimicked along as she twirled a part of her hair around her finger before letting it unfurl, and Quinn just quietly shook her head. Santana and Brittany, sprawled out on neighboring beds, would look to one another, stifling a laugh. After a while though, Santana's expressions were redirecting Brittany's laughter on to her, making it increasingly hard to keep quiet, until one little squeak of a chuckle escaped.

"I heard that," Rachel's response was immediate. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, alright," she took the pillow from under her head and tossed it squarely at Rachel's back. All heads snapped to look at her and see what would happen, with reactions ranging from complete amusement to apprehension of what that would cost them. Rachel got on her feet, taking the pillow and throwing it back at Santana… or at least trying to. Santana looked to the pillow, which landed to her right. "Come on, I didn't even have to move out of the way," she smirked.

"Here, let me," Lauren got up, taking the pillow and snapping it at Santana's shoulder. The pillow exploded feathers… or at least it ripped, sending the contents flying around the stunned brunette's head. The room had gone quiet as they saw this. It was like whimsy had been unleashed in each one of them… Well, all except one… Rachel may have felt just as they had, but the vision of that Nationals trophy still superseded it. She was on her own for that though.

"Uh oh," Brittany had looked to Lauren, though she looked more giddy than scared. Santana picked up the torn pillow, turned it about in her hands before looking up.

"Oh… Lauren…" Santana shook her head, while the girl nodded hers, as though she welcomed what was to come next. Santana didn't deceive, smacking her up the side of the head and sending another flurry of feathers flying… She was smirking, too.

One hand made a cautious grab for a pillow, and then so did another… and another… Weapons were drawn, warriors at the ready…

"Lock and load, Lopez," Lauren held out her arms.

"That's what they call me," Santana smirked, holding out her hand. "Britt, pillow?" Two seconds later, her back was showered with feathers, and she closed her eyes. "I meant give me one," she turned around.

"I know," Brittany looked downright mischievous… Santana couldn't be mad at that. Still, as redemption perhaps, Brittany suddenly pulled at her hand and tugged for her to follow her atop the bed, barely missing being hit by Mercedes' first volley.

"Great, so now we won't just lose, we'll get thrown out for property damage," Rachel's voice brought the room to a sudden standstill. It was a matter of seeing who would move first… And then Tina was on top of another bed, pillow high in the air… and she unleashed her battle cry.

"For Lima!" she hollered. And the feathers began to rain, with screeches of laughter.

The hits came from every side, to the point where they couldn't so much see what or who they were hitting and just had to strike and hope to land a hit, while minding that they didn't swallow or snort a passing feather. Others, say one Quinn Fabray, would go rogue, breaking from the cloud to try and incite the girl who'd sat back at her desk to come and join them before cycling back, grabbing a fresh pillow on the way.

It took some time more, but the battle began to die out. Some of them, tired out, began to pull away, while others did it because they'd run out of ammo and couldn't bother to reload. When it came down to the last two, Brittany and Tina, it finally all stopped. The cloud hung in the air for a solid few minutes, and it was only as it did that someone noticed…

"Where'd Rachel go?" Brittany asked.

"Probably to rat us out to Schuester," Santana pulled feathers out of her hair and the blonde's. The girls began to take in the damage of their feathered battle royale. It was hardly regret, just stunned amazement.

"Guess we should at least try and write something," Tina shrugged. The girls began to give slow, reluctant nods.

"Or…" Santana cut in. "We recharge… and then we launch on the boys…" Mischief reignited.

THE END

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><p><strong>AN: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
><strong>**In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
><strong>******always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!******


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